lovers that went wrong
by closingdoors
Summary: AU from Always. "He hears that she fell fifteen floors."


**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, my babies aren't actually _mine. _I just wish they were. Also, fair warning, this is angst-heavy, and if that's not your sort of thing you should most definitely not read this.**

* * *

Castle does not want the details. Ryan gives them to him regardless.

Maybe he thinks that he's helping. Telling him how Kate called for him- _"Castle! I'm here! Castle!"_ even though he isn't there. Held on as long as she could, but they were too late. Too late, too late, too late. Her aching fingers slipped from the ledge and Ryan could do nothing but watch as she fell. Down and down and down...

He hears that she fell fifteen floors.

Castle supposes that Kate would be pleased if she were here now. Ryan caught Maddox as he tried to run and 3 days later he'd given them enough leads to bring everyone related to Johanna Beckett's murder down. So Kate avenged her mother, but died in the process.

Dead.

Ryan and Lanie give him odd looks when he asks to see her. Lanie places a hand on his shoulder and asks him if he's sure that's what he wants, wouldn't it be better to remember her alive and well? No. It wouldn't. The last time he saw her she was angry and hurt and so was he. He needs to remember anything but that.

Perlmutter pulls back the white sheet and he is not shocked to find her skin in the same stark colour. He's seen enough dead bodies in his time shadowing her that death doesn't come as a shock to him anymore, nor does he find it repulsive. Maybe the others, even part of his subconscious, thought that seeing Kate... like this would be worse than seeing any other Jane Doe laying on the slab. But in fact Castle was even less effected.

She looks so peaceful. Eyes closed and hair splayed beneath her. For once there is no fight or drive within her for revenge. There is no anger aimed towards him. Yes, she does look hurt physically. Purple bruises splayed across her neck where Maddox tried to choke her, painted randomly across her collarbones. But he doesn't think she looks hurt emotionally anymore. He hasn't caused her any pain. That's good enough for him.

Though he'd never dare if she were alive, Castle delicately strokes a thumb across her lips- there's a small cut on the right side, he notices. Slowly, he leans down and presses a lingering kiss to her forehead. Goodbye. Breathes in her scent (How can she still smell of cherries while reeking of death and those other chemicals used in the morgue?) and then lifts away.

He leaves without a word.

* * *

Although he really ought to, Castle doesn't attend her funeral.

He spends the day writing Nikki Heat. Which is odd, considering the muse is no longer alive to inspire him. He finishes _Frozen Heat_ three weeks before the deadline that day. Alexis hovers in the doorway for the morning, but then leaves with Martha to attend Kate's funeral without him. They do not understand why he doesn't attend, and he's not quite sure why he doesn't either. Castle is well aware that she is dead and gone and will never ring him again at 4AM reporting they had a body, so it's not that the funeral would show him she really is gone. Perhaps it's that he's already said goodbye in the morgue so many days ago, and he doesn't want to experience another one. He had already experienced goodbye too many times with Kate Beckett.

It's only when he finishes _Frozen Heat _with the words: 'There is a moment when everything is weightless for Nikki, Rook's name on the tip of her tongue as wind races past her ears. But then it flashes before her mind in her last moments that he isn't here to save her like he always had been and she thought he always would be because he'd promised. Always.'

Castle stops. He had never intended to kill off Nikki the same way Kate had died, but somehow this is where he has ended up. Something niggles in the back of his mind that he ought to change it, but he doesn't. This way he learns why it is he's chosen not to attend Kate's funeral. This way is right.

* * *

Two hours after his daughters funeral, Jim Beckett opens his door to find a ragged-looking Castle. Without a word, Jim envelopes him in a warm hug. Briefly, Castle wonders if this is what it's like to have a father, but then Jim lets go.

"Come on in, son." Jim says warmly, and it pains Castle that there is no malice in either his voice or his eyes.

Castle shakes his head, tenses his hands into fists beside him. "I just- I just came to make sure you know how sorry I am and how guilty I feel, sir."

Jim reels back in shock for a moment, much like the way Kate had three years ago when he had told her he'd been investigating her mothers murder. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Castle registers that he's sad thinking about Kate. But the other more dominant part reminds him to get his whole point across to Jim.

"I promised myself that I wouldn't let her lose her life to this. Promised _you. _And because I'm so arrogant and _selfish _I let my emotions control me and lost control. And now she's dead." Castle tells Jim seriously, tears glittering in her eyes. "And, God, Jim, I'm so sorry I let her die and- and-"

So much for composed, as he'd promised himself earlier. Instead, Castle finds he can't conjure the words to explain how he feels and the hollow feeling in his heart. So he hangs in head in shame, shoving his fists into his pockets, waiting for more blame from Jim. It would make him feel better, he knows this, if Jim told him exactly how much he blamed him.

But instead he feels a reassuring hand on his shoulder and hears Jim's level voice. "Castle, this is not your fault."

Startled, Castle's head jerks up to meet Jim's sincere eyes. "It... Of course it is. I was- God, I was too busy trying to play hero to save her from those monsters and getting caught up in my feelings I forgot to save her from herself." Because, of course, the biggest danger in all of this had always been Kate. Kate and her determination to avenge her Mother that she forgot how much her life truly meant. Montgomery's words ring in his mind: _I can not make Beckett stand down, Castle. I never could. I figure the only one who can is you._

"But you tried, Castle. That's what counts." Jim gives him another squeeze on the shoulder before letting his hand drop with a sigh. "Listen to me, Castle: It was not only your responsibility to stop her. It was mine, too. All her friends. But we couldn't stop her from having a thirst for revenge, you know? You did not kill her mother. You did not put a bullet in her chest the first time she got too close. You did not throw her off the edge of a building the last time she ever could. The way I see it is that it is not our fault, not even Kate's for heading after it. It is the fault of the person who threw her off the building. And _don't you forget that,_ Castle."

Castle breaks, his knees buckling beneath him as a sob escapes from his throat. Before he hits the floor, Jim Beckett catches him in his arms. Castle clings to him tightly, ashamed of his tears, but suddenly he is babbling away at Jim and he can't seem to stop.

"I- I just- She'd dead, sir. How the- How are you able to be like this? Your wife, your daughter. Oh, God, she's your daughter. I'm so sorry, sir. I shouldn't- But I- I _love _your daughter. So much. How am I gonna carry on? Knowing she was _calling _for me and I wasn't _there _and the last time we spoke she was angry and hurt and- and-"

"She loved you, Castle. Does that help?" Jim asks, seemingly perfectly okay with Castle's babbling and clinging to him like a baby.

Castle sucks in a shocked breath, looking up at Jim as if he'd just spouted a second head. "No, she didn't. I mean, no disrespect, sir, but you're wrong. She lied to me. I told her I loved her when she was shot and she said she didn't remember. But she did- And she was embarrassed. I-"

"And no disrespect to you, Castle, but I know my own daughter."

Jim's sharp tone, one he has never heard before, surprises Castle. Jim now stares at him as if _he's _the one who has grown a second head, and Castle remembers that he is still clinging tightly to Jim. With a shaky breath, he releases Jim and attempts to stand on his own two feet, though leans slightly on the door frame for support. Castle waits for Jim to speak again.

Jim sighs, "Castle, ever since you began working together, all she would talk about was you. Even if she was annoyed, it would be _Castle did this today _or _You__'ll never believe what Castle said today._ Then one summer she moaned about how boring work was without you, and how she couldn't believe that you had ran back into your ex's arms. _Castle this, __Castle that. _The way you held her hand and looked at her gravely before pulling all the wires of a dirty bomb, and how moments before she thought she was going to die frozen in your arms and that was _okay._ When she spent three months in my cabin she kept saying how she needed time, but never what for, just that she hoped you'd understand. You two started working together again and she was fine. Happier, even. God, you should've seen how much her eyes light when she spoke of you, or how she smiled without realizing it." Jim stopped to take a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment.

"Castle, she was so in love with you, and for years I don't think she knew. But lately she acted differently, like she was waiting- hoping- for something. For you. And I'd never seen her act like that before. So you can stand there and convince yourself that she never loved you, or you can listen to the truth and know she was head over heels for you, son."

* * *

The next morning, Castle greets both his daughter and his Mother with a kiss on the cheek and the smell of cooking bacon. They exchange worried looks, but they choose not to comment, so he doesn't have to explain himself. He jokes with Alexis and ribs his Mother, and for a moment it's as if nothing has changed. As if any second the phone will ring and her voice will float through the phone with an address to meet her.

Oddly, it doesn't hurt later on when he realizes that isn't going to happen.

* * *

He re-writes the last few chapters of _Frozen Heat._ It may have felt right in his grief-stricken mind the day before, but he knows now that killing Nikki Heat, his last connection to her. The real Nikki heat may be gone from the world, but that does not mean that the one on the page must fade away.

Rook almost dies. But Nikki saves him, as he desperately clings to the ledge of Brooklyn Bridge after a run-in with a suspect. She and her team lift him from his almost-certain death, and when he's back to safety and on his feet Nikki launches herself into his arms in front of the whole team.

Castle writes the last line with a tender smile on his face: '_As she buries her face in his neck, Nikki feels herself whisper the words she'd always denied him. "God, Rook, don't ever do that to me again. I god damn love you."' _

* * *

The sales for _Frozen Heat_ are through the roof. Paula is ecstatic, albeit wary still, and arranged several book readings and signings. As well as book parties. His family ask him if that's okay, especially Alexis, who even four months later is expecting him to break down at any moment. Castle assures them that it's fine- Brilliant, even. His fans may be there for the book and juicy gossip, but it almost feels to him as if it is a celebration of Kate's life.

Some of the critics take the tragic angle, write how the ending will always be bittersweet as it's the ending the 'real-life' Rook and Heat will never have. Others take the completely romantic angle, claiming how sweet it is for ex-playboy author to write his late partner a love letter in book. Then there are others who take the book for what it is: A story.

As Castle settles himself down on the stool, _Frozen Heat _in his hand, he searches the crowd for a comforting face. He finds that face, Jim Beckett, sitting right at the back of the crowd with an encouraging smile on his face. So Castle takes a deep breath and reads the dedication, the first step towards celebrating the wonder that was Kate Beckett.

"For Kate. Always."


End file.
